Necessary Betrayal
++ Maccadam's Old Oil House ++ Maccadam's Old Oil House is an old and respected establishment, run by the mysterious moustached, gold-plated mech that shares the joint's name. The lights are pleasantly low, but not so low one can't see everyone clearly; pleasant music, also at a low-key, is played in the background by a Cybertronian who turns into a piano. A stage in the back is set up for various local entertainers. The oval bar is center to the oil house, and the wide floor in the dome-shaped establishment has tables and chairs suitable for all sizes and frametypes. Booths line round wall, and near the doorway are large picture windows facing the street. The floors are a deep burgundy-red, while the bar, tables and chairs are a deep polished tan. The walls are dark gray, and a series of hovering automated lights follow patrons and servers around the bar, providing individual illumination on demand. A stained-glass like dome at the top of the bar is designed to look like Cybertron, with all five moons surrounding it. The regular bartender, another moustached mech, is mostly a cool slate blue, with a bow-tie-like decoration across his 'collar'. A pair of incredibly tough, large mechs act as bouncers, as Maccadam does not allow fights in his establishment. All are welcome, regardless of frame, caste or ideology. Regular patrons to the establishment may find their picture on the menu accompanying a favorite drink. Exits: Maccaddam's is bustling this evening, as per usual. Mechs of all sorts come here for a respite. It's strange that a place like this is even still -allowed- to exist, but perhaps somehow, the universe just won't let it get shut down. Perhaps because there has to be some place, somewhere, where one can go to at least temporarily forget the woes of this world. So why is Prowl here? He isn't exactly the type of person who does that sort of thing. That is, seeking respite. Is 'relax' even in the mech's vocabulary? At any rate, if he is here, that can only mean one thing: He's on task. He has an objective to accomplish that involves entering Maccaddam's. That objective is probably finding a certain someone. Someone he might be able to trust just enough to get the job done. The officer scans the crowds, searching for the Camien ship mechanic... With her new job in Vos, Nautica hasn't been as much of a regular visitor to Maccadam's as she once was, when she first started trying to get out of the Embassy. But today, it seems, she wanted a glass of something, and the presence of others. Despite this, she's seated alone at one of the tables, simply listening to those around her, rather than participating in a conversation. Perhaps she's puzzling over a problem from her new work, or perhaps she's simply mulling over recent events. Either way, it's a simple enough matter for Prowl to take the other seat at her table, should he choose to. Prowl spots her, as he figured he would. Surveillance feeds had her going into Maccaddam's just moments ago. And she had also mentioned that she'd been here before, as well. He seats himsef directly across from her, not bothering to ask because obviously there wasn't any point to it. And he doesn't do things that don't have any point. "Nautica," He says, in that expressionless tone that is so typical of him. "I hope I'm not disturbing you." "Oh!" Nautica startles out of her own thoughts, and then shakes her head. "No, not really; I was just thinking on a few things. Please..." She gestures to the chair that Prowl's already sitting in, and then seems to realize this fact. "Oh, I guess you already have. I'm sorry if I wasn't more help, the other day." Prowl shakes his head, placing his hands on the table in front of him. "No need to apologize, I know you did your best to assist, which is why I'm here." His optics meet hers, and he fixes her with a steady gaze. "Does Blast Off trust you?" He asks, cutting right down to business as per usual. "I... don't honestly know," Nautica admits, after a moment's consideration. "I've met him three times: twice here, and once when I happened to be in the area and he needed an extra pair of hands. He seemed pleasant enough to talk to; he liked spaceflight and jump engines, and knew enough about them to converse intelligently." And for a quantum mechanic, a ship's engineer stuck on the ground, it was a comfortable topic. "But trust?" Prowl nods. "Well in that case, I'd like you to -earn- his trust, do you think you can do that? You and he have a few things in common as far as interests go, so it should be fairly comfortable. You both enjoy talking about space travel, and you are both intellectuals--which is why you've been able to get along with him quite well thus far. Am I correct?" "Yes, that's right," Nautica replies, with a nod. "Before I joined the research facility I'm working at, I was cooped up in the Camien embassy with little to do. A chance to converse with someone else who understood engines and spaceflight was a pleasant change." She trails off, folding her hands on the table as she watches Prowl. With some hesitation, she asks, "You want me to /spy/ on him?" Prowl arches a brow ridge at her. "Spy? I never said the word." He answers, shaking his head. "I simply said I want you to gain his trust. I am asking -you-, specifcally, because again, you and he share several interests in common, you are already acquainted with him, -and- you appear to be dedicated to upholding the law and bringing those who have breached it to justice. Are all of the above statements true of you, Nautica?" "Well, yes," Nautica allows. "It's more a matter of the fact that... I'm not very /good/ at being subtle, or diplomatic." A bit dryly, she adds, "You might have noticed this the other day." "You don't have to be." Prowl shrugs. "Just keep doing what you've been doing, you're already on the right track. You wanted him as a friend, didn't you? So pursue it. Gain his trust, and then--ideally, convince him to turn himself in. If that's not possible, then simply create a situation, based on your knowledge of him, that he has very low chances of escaping from, and lure him into it. For example, you know he favors keeping distances, and does not do well in close quarters. He relies on flight for a fast escape--so get him to a place where he won't find either. Find him for us, so that we can track him down and apprehend him properly." Basically, befriend him, then lure him into a trap and betray him. Simple enough, right? "If I can convince him to turn himself in, he'll receive a chance to give his side of the story, won't he? If he's innocent, to offer proof of that?" Nautica, apparently, still mostly has faith in the system to be fair, but something lately perhaps has shaken her enough that she still just wants confirmation nonetheless. Prowl nods. "Of course. That's exactly why I've asked you to attempt to convince him to turn himself in first. If he is indeed innocent, he'll be given the chance to speak his piece and if he's guilty, and he show remorse for his crimes as well as admitting to them, he will have a chance at a much lesser degree of punishment. Further, what kind of life would he lead, constantly on the run from the law? Even so, he can't keep running forever. If he cooperates with the state, and takes whatever sentence he receives willingly, he will be released when the time comes and allowed to resume his former lifestyle. Don't you think that would be the best outcome?" "Of course!" Nautica replies with a nod, both the gesture and her tone verging on vehement. "I mean, I can't promise anything; as I said, we aren't close. But if I see him again, I will try to learn more, to calm his fears and get him to come and speak to you. I hope that will help." "I know you aren't...yet. But given the circumstances, Blast Off has few friends. He may not act like it, but I'm sure he will be eager for someone who seems to understand him." Prowl replies. He folds his arms across his chassis. "Now, can I trust that you'll do what's necessary, should he refuse?" "I don't think I'd be very good at that," Nautica says, gazing down at her hands where they rest on the table. She doesn't sound /comfortable/ with the idea, either. Befriending someone to betray them clearly seems, to the Camien, to cross a line somewhere. Prowl gives her a pointed look. "And why not?" he prods further. "You're very intelligent. You know his strenghts and weaknesses. I have no doubt that you'll be able to craft a foolproof scenario for us." "It's the execution. Intelligence doesn't necessarily mean you can conceal your plans, even if you can make them," Nautica points out, raising her head to let her optics focus on Prowl once more. "I'm an engineer, a scholar. Not a law officer. There are reasons for that." "Which is exactly why the only parts that need to be concealed are the parts that will be executed by law enforcement officers." Prowl assures her. "You just make a date with him, pick a place you know won't provide him with an easy escape, and tell us where it is." Nautica nods once at this, still clearly unhappy. "But it won't be necessary," she assures Prowl. "He's a sensible mech -- he's an intellectual -- so I'm certain he'll turn himself in if I talk to him." Or at least, that's what she's going to tell herself. Prowl isn't satisifed. He lets out a small, exasperated sigh. "Nautica, it isn't enough to be an optimist all the time. Because while the ideal situation is what we'd -like- believe is most likely--in many situations, such isn't the case. As an engineer you should be well aware of this fact." While he isn't a scientist himself, he knows how research can be difficult. "Thus, we have to make sure we are prepared for the worst, should it come." "Why are you so hestitant? I don't doubt your abilities, and I doubt you do, either. Besides, if you believe in something, and you -know- it's the right thing to do, I am certain you will find a way." "I'll do the right thing," Nautica assures Prowl, though she still sounds somewhat unhappy about this. "But I don't like the idea of betraying someone's trust; experiments may go wrong, but I don't want to think of those I try to befriend as experiments. Still... I'll do the right thing." "And you understand that this -is- the right thing." Prowl reiterates, his face still stoic as ever. Because sometimes, detaching yourself from people and thinking of them instead as projects, experiments, or simply statistics, is -necessary-. "I accept it may be the right thing, if he doesn't turn himself in," Nautica allows. Apparently, she's still holding out hope for that course. "Good." Prowl stands up, appearing satisfied for now. "Sometimes, deception and betrayal is necessary for a mech's own good, -and- for the good of those around him. You would do well to remember that." He turns to leave. "We'll be in touch." And with that, he strides out of the bar, having no further business there. For her part, Nautica remains seated at her table. If she was lost in her thoughts before, she has even more to think about now.